"We have lost her," said Olive, with a sigh.It really was too absurd. Janet could not help fidgeting almost audibly."Oh, my dear, ought you not to be asleep?" exclaimed Miss Patience in thin, anxious tones from the other end of the board, while Miss Delicia ran up to the girl and took one of her dimpled white hands in hers.
"And what's the darling's name?" asked Bridget.
"Nonsense, Janet, you know you're one of the best French scholars in the school. You won't get out of answering my question by that flimsy excuse. Don't you hate Miss O'Hara?"
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"How can I possibly tell you, Miss O'Hara?" she replied. "You are a tall girl. Perhaps you are seventeen, although you look more."
For some reason her companions, both old and young in the school, had taken upon themselves to cut her.For some reason her companions, both old and young in the school, had taken upon themselves to cut her."I shall do nothing to-night," said Mrs. Freeman. "But to-morrow, after morning school, I must speak to Bridget. Her conduct during that interview will more or less decide what steps I must take."Although the booming sound of the great gong filled the air, the supper to which the head girls of the school were now going was a very simple affair. It consisted of milk placed in great jugs at intervals down the long table, of fruit both cooked and uncooked, and large plates of bread and butter.
"Pain and anxiety! I like that! You are just angry with me—that's about all!"
Small girls are easily influenced, and Bridget and her tribe rushed down the avenue, shouting and whooping as they went.